


The Club of Torn Sleeves

by Foxtail-chan (TheTinyFoxtail)



Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Comfort, Drabble, F/M, Friendship, Growing Up, Murder, Oneshot, Pride, Romance, first kill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 17:05:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9281507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTinyFoxtail/pseuds/Foxtail-chan
Summary: He loved her. And it was because he loved her that a small part of him grieved when she took down Kumuji. She'd never regret it, but one day, maybe not tomorrow or the next day, or even the next month or year, but one day she'd feel the weight of it on her shoulders. And when that day came Hak would be there, hand outstretched, helping her as best he could.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Recently watched Akatsuki no Yona and instantly fell in love with the Hak and Yona pairing. This is my first shot writing for this fandom so I hope I didn't butcher these babies too badly. ^^' Just thought more would be going through Hak's mind when Yona kills Kumuji than they apparently let on in the anime.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy! :D

The moment Yona shot the arrow that would take Kumuji's life, time slowed to a near standstill for Hak. He wasn't sure if it was the same for the others, but in that moment it seemed as if everyone and everything, the ocean, the boats, the pirates, even the billowing wind shuddered to a halt to watch her and her murderous deed.

His heart pounded in his ears as the arrow made its painfully slow journey, and in that moment, suddenly, she was all he could see. Her hair blew out behind her, a brilliant curtain of red as if the sun were shining only directly on her, her eyes intent and full of a particularly admirable kind of malice. She was stunning in that moment, a fiery-hearted girl who was finally officially climbing out of her shell of ignorance.

After all, what would ground her more than ending another human being's life?

And it was with that thought that the pounding in Hak's ears ceased as his heart dropped to his stomach, the whiz of the arrow penetrating the still air and bringing everything back into perspective. Kumuji's body made a heavy splash in the ocean and everything was quiet. The reality of the situation began to sink in for everyone.

And an overwhelming sense of pride and dread washed over Hak. He shut his eyes tight, unaware of the others' yells and questions and cheers.

He felt as if he were being torn apart slowly, starting from the center of his chest. He was proud, _beyond_ proud of her and what she'd become. He had had his doubts on whether or not she'd actually be able to take another's life when the moment presented itself, even someone as despicable as Kumuji, and yet she'd shown the utmost composure and skill, not hesitating for a minute. She'd aimed perfectly, she'd set the town aright again, and she'd taken a gigantic leap of her own towards becoming the girl Hak knew she wanted to, and could, be.

And yet he couldn't celebrate. During that single quiet moment when she shot the arrow, he felt something shift, a sound that only he could hear distracting him if only slightly. It sounded a bit like tearing paper and he knew instantly what it was. It was not a real sound, rather one conjured by his imagination, but he recognized it nonetheless, as he'd heard it many times whenever he himself had taken someone's life.

Two hundred and twenty three. It was the number of people he'd ultimately silenced for good over the years. He was a bodyguard, so he did what he had to do and he didn't regret it... and yet he remembered every single one. Every single face. Every single slight weight on his conscience that he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

Over time he'd begun to have his own representation of it: he felt as if he were wearing a coat with dozens upon dozens of tiny rips and tears in it. As if every time he took a life, another hole would snag and he could hear the ripping of the fabric with it. No one else could see the holes of course, as they weren't really there, but he could always feel them. He always _knew_ they were there, the wind whistling through them, reminding him, whether he wanted a reminder or not, of the lives he'd taken.

He loved her, and it was because he loved her that in many ways he didn't want Yona to become like himself, and the weight of killing another human being, the proverbial slow nagging tears on his sleeves… He never wanted that for her.

And so as the pirates began to rejoice, his eyes still shut tight, a part of him grieved deeply for her as another part of himself swelled with the pride he wished he could focus on. Because he knew she would never regret killing Kumuji and no one would blame her for it either, but one day, maybe not this day or the next, or the next week or month or year, but someday he knew she would wake up and feel that heavy tear on her sleeve too.

And it would feel like she had another life weighing on her shoulders, and she'd have to live with herself that no matter how vile the victim, she had ultimately taken another living being's life.

Hak opened his eyes slowly, watching her as she stared wordlessly at the spot in the ocean where Kumuji fell. But then again he knew now exactly how strong she was, and he knew in turn that she would be able to handle it.

Because if nothing else, he was there for her as someone who'd been in the exact same position. He was there to grimly welcome her to the club of torn sleeves and would be the one to ultimately help her through it.

And honestly... he couldn't think of another job that he'd rather have.


End file.
